


Donna On her Way

by quietann



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: F/F, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 18:45:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1195575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietann/pseuds/quietann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I am -- as much as any of them -- Vor.  I serve.  I don't question it; even when it seems like I'm putting the rest of them down, it's there.  I failed at a Vor woman's duty.  As a girl, I was told to be modest, prudent, and chaste -- and I failed.  My father married me off to the highest bidder -- a Count! -- to make more little Vor lords, and I failed.  I tried to make friends with the High Vor ladies, go to their teas, get drawn into their gossip, and instead I got too friendly with their husbands, so I failed.  I pulled myself into the mold of what everyone expected of slightly damaged Vor goods, married again -- twice -- and I failed utterly.  The kind of service I can do, everything I'm best at --- managing the District --- it's worth nothing if I'm not male."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Donna On her Way

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tigerbright's "Let's Give Them Something to Talk About" fic challenge in May 2006
> 
>  
> 
> _Note for LMB fans: This is set sometime before _A Civil Campaign_ but after _Memory_, so Miles Vorkosigan is probably on Komarr on his Auditorial case. The setting for the first part is a Vorish dance hosted by the Emperor, but probably not associated with any particular holiday._
> 
>  
> 
> _This started as a simple piece about Lady Donna Vorrutyer taking her lawyer, Ademia Castor, to a Vor party -- as a date. That was in keeping with the challenge theme. And then.... it all got a lot longer and more complicated, as I used this as a springboard to explore one possible way Donna could have decided to change her sex. Once the story gets into that territory, as you will see, it isn't just a smooth little piece of glee anymore._
> 
>  
> 
> _Ademia (Greek for "without a husband") is what I have chosen to name Donna's lawyer, who is mentioned once in _A Civil Campaign_. As such, she is more or less my own creation. All other characters, settings etc. are copyrighted by Lois McMaster Bujold and used without permission..._

Lady Donna Vorrutyer settled into the roomy backseat of the groundcar, next to Ademia Castor, her lawyer and sometimes girlfriend. Ademia was lovely as usual, pale and glowingly blond in a blue velvet dress, a gift Donna had chosen to match her own ensemble, which was quite deliberately done in Vorrutyer House colors of blue and grey. In these outfits, Donna and Ademia resembled any High Vor couple, with one obvious difference. Undoubtedly, Ademia was a bit nervous at being included at a High Vor society event for the first time, even though she'd served as the wives' lawyer in several high-profile Vor divorces -- including Donna's most recent -- so she wasn't exactly unknown. 

As if reading Donna's mind, Ademia asked her, "Isn't it a bit ... outre, for you to take me as your guest to this party?"

"Oh, don't worry; the men won't even notice, because they can't ever acknowledge that a woman who wouldn't love them just because they are men exists," Donna snorted.

"What about the women?"

"Well, there will be some clever ones. Alys Vorpatril, for instance."

"You're not exactly talking ordinary women here." Ademia quailed a bit, clearly unnerved by the thought of being evaluated by that particular Vor luminary.

"No. But Lady Vorpatril is still sufficiently annoyed at me -- after how many years? -- for swiving her son that she'll probably just be happy thinking I've gone down another path."

"And the other women?" Ademia asked, still with some concern.

"As willfully ignorant as their Vor men. And if they do pick up on it, they'll probably be relieved, just like Lady Vorpatril..."

"Because you are such a naughty girl, making time with their husbands like you do." Ademia smiled prettily, and Donna chuckled at her in return.

"And if they think I've given up on men, all the better for me to have fun, right? Actually, if the silly things would just understand that I am merely borrowing their husbands ... I'm done with being any man's wife, ever."

"Listening to you, I'm happy I figured out that being a wife wasn't going to work for me before I ever became one... and isn't it better like this?" Ademia took Donna's hand and kissed it. She was quite a romantic, this one. The professionally cool demeanor Ademia cultivated in public vanished in private, replaced by dimples and shy eyes and softness. Donna felt blessed to enjoy this secret side of the woman, and further blessed that Ademia did not get the slightest bit jealous when Donna occasionally took up with a man. It was, in fact, better like this. Ademia kept Donna's attention in a way no man ever had.

They'd met under simple enough circumstances: Donna needed a good divorce lawyer when her third marriage fell apart, because her then-husband, by marrying her, had given himself a chance at the Vorrutyer Countship, if Donna's brother Count Pierre would name him as heir. It was not unprecedented for a sonless Count to name his brother-in-law as heir, especially when the alternative -- his and Donna's despised cousin Richars -- was so distasteful. Count Pierre had encouraged Donna's marriage, but when her husband proved to be a dolt, both Pierre and Donna became less enamored of him. Finally, Donna told her brother that she was no longer willing to stay married to an idiot just out of loyalty to her family. It didn't seem worth the trouble, given that the Vorrutyer dynasty consisted of a smallish, not too wealthy district, a well-deserved family reputation for being a bit mentally unstable, and, through marrying off daughters to the Vorbarra and Vorkosigan families every other generation or so, close enough ties to the Barrayaran Imperium to keep an otherwise marginal entity politically viable. 

A few discreet inquiries had led Donna to Ademia Castor. Throughout the preparation of her case, Donna had been aware that there was a subtle flirtation going on between them. Ademia's professional image had finally crumpled under the influence of a few celebratory drinks, the night after the divorce judgment (which was very much in Donna's favor) had been handed down. They'd essentially seduced each other, and Donna had been left wondering why she'd never before considered having a female lover. Ademia, for her part, had always preferred women, and was utterly captivated by Donna. Since that time, they had carried on a quiet but joyous affair, primarily in the privacy of Ademia's apartment on the edge of the old Caravanserai in Vorbarr Sultana, in a neighborhood that casually accepted people who were different in various ways.

Ademia drew Donna out of her reverie with a simple question. "Why do you put up with it all?"

"The High Vor circus entertains me. It's more a question of why do they put up with me, and that has everything to do with poor, dear Pierre. The more political Vor have figured out by now that if they want an alliance with the Vorrutyer district, trying to go to my brother is useless; they need to talk with me. Even the stiffest old sticks can be alarmingly progressive if they think it will help them win power. But in public, they all have to pretend that I'm an embarassment to the Vor legacy. And in public, well, I am a Vorrutyer, and everyone knows that the entire lot of us are crazy anyway, so I can get away with all kinds of trouble."

"Such a cynic you are!"

"Makes it easier on all of us."

A few minutes later, they pulled up to the Imperial Residence. Donna put her arm through Ademia's as they headed for the entrance.

They worked their way through the crowd, occasionally stopping so Donna could introduce her companion. Donna noted various Vor men -- mainly those with less savory reputations -- eyeing Ademia nervously and sidling away. She was collecting their names in her head, so she could ask Ademia about their legal transgressions later. Given that Ademia's legal practice seemed to specialize in an odd combination of unhappily married Vor women and high-class whores whose customers would do just about anything to remain unnamed, she'd no doubt have an amusing tale or three.

Alys Vorpatril approached them ... "Lady Donna, and ... who is this?" 

"Lady Alys Vorpatril, Madame Ademia Castor." Donna kept her somewhat possessive grip on Ademia, who gave Lady Alys a shy hello.

"Madame Castor. Hm. You seem familiar..."

"I've had a certain amount of ... contact with the Vor, through my legal practice."

Alys frowned, and then looked enlightened. "Ah. You were the former Lady Vorpinski's counsel in her divorce, correct?" She sounded disapproving, which made Donna worry a bit for Ademia's sake.

"Yes. Among others." 

"It was a bit... unseemly," Alys sniffed. 

"Lord Vorpinkski supplied all the unseemliness we needed to get his wife a good settlement." 

Donna's worries vanished as she watched Alys's double-take. Ademia could clearly skirt the bounds of propriety in just the right way to get under the older woman's skin without causing a social catastrophe. "And tonight you are here ... in what capacity, exactly?" Alys asked her. 

"Madame Castor is my guest tonight, Lady Vorpatril," Donna said. "She's quite refreshing, compared to some of my companions of past years, don't you think?" Lady Alys clearly got the reference to her peripatetic son Ivan, and made to back down. Donna smiled brilliantly at her and leaned a little closer to Ademia, and made a point of inhaling Ademia's lovely perfume.

Lady Alys blanched. "Perhaps. Ah ... speaking of which, there goes Lady Vortupoulos ... I do need to be sure Ivan meets her daughter; it would be so suitable a match." She strode away with sudden purpose.

"Ouch." Ademia looked affronted.

"No need to be peeved at her on my account. We're actually both relieved that I tired of her darling Ivan, after a while. It should be a point of bonding between us, but you know, this arch comedy is really more enjoyable than trying to be her friend. And ... you stood up to her just fine."

Ademia shook her head a little and made a sour face. "Trust me, I've had plenty of practice; I grew up around enough girls like her -- even if they weren't rich -- who wanted to rip me to pieces because I didn't care about boys -- even though it meant more boys for them..."  
"Speaking of ouch. Let's try to forget all that tonight." 

As the party swirled around them, Donna found it hard to pull her focus from her companion. She would have much rather been alone with Ademia at her apartment; she would have rather been alone with Ademia anywhere, or at least anywhere she could slide the blue velvet off Ademia's shoulders and let it drop to the floor, and trade the most tender caresses with her. Maybe she couldn't have that much now, but that didn't mean she could have nothing at all, if she were clever... Donna stumbled slightly, and exclaimed "Ow!" as convincingly as she could. She gathered the fabric of her dress and stared down towards her left hip.

"What's wrong?" Ademia sounded very concerned -- exactly what Donna wanted.

"A wardrobe failure." Donna lowered her voice. "There's a bit of boning in my undergarments that seems to have come loose... Maybe we should find someplace to see if it can be put back?" 

They found an empty powder room quickly, and ignored the glances and questioning murmurs of the other women as they closed and locked the door behind them.  
The moment the lock clicked, Donna stood up straight and grinned. "Gotcha," she said, as she pushed Ademia against the vanity, and kissed her until she flushed ever so prettily. 

"You are wicked," Ademia gasped.

"Of course I am. And you love it, I know you do." Donna continued her gentle assault on Ademia, and her heart sang as she felt Ademia yield to her. Getting out of these fancy dresses could be simple, but only if one had no intent of getting back into them, an impossibility under the current circumstances. But Ademia's bare shoulders -- and the utter longing in her blue eyes -- were quite the enticement for Donna to do as much as she could manage while keeping them both fully clothed.

After a few unbelievably intense -- and tantalizingly frustrating -- minutes, Donna paused. At Ademia's questioning glance, Donna turned her to face the mirror, and whispered to her, "Darling, don't you agree that you needed a bit more color in order to be presentable to the Highest of the High Vor?" An echo of Ademia's initial flush rose across her skin, as Donna hastily finger-combed and re-pinned a few of Ademia's curls that had come loose. Donna unlocked and opened the door, and led Ademia towards a cluster of people that was forming in one corner of the ballroom. The glances and murmurs of the other guests had multiplied, but Donna did not care. _Let the ignorant fools have their gossip._

Soon they were near the front of the line to chat with Emperor Gregor Vorbarra himself. Completely by accident, they'd reached this place in the company of a few very old-fashioned Counts, who were desperately trying to ignore Donna and Ademia, and failing.

"Sire, may I present my lawyer and ... ah, friend, Madame Ademia Castor." Gregor took them in, his eyes alight with humor. _He knows, dammit, how does he always know?_ But of course he had matured into the most subtly perceptive man Donna had ever met -- and, thankfully for her sake, one of the most discreet. Ademia made a little curtsey, and gave him a shy acknowledgment.

Gregor then turned to Donna and asked, "Milady, your brother is still unwell?"

"Ever unwell, I think. He hasn't left the house in months."

"How does the District manage?" he continued. Donna silently blessed him for handing her this opening, right in front of some of the most unbending conservatives in Vorish society. 

"They have me, Sire."

"Lucky they are for that." Gregor favored Donna with the slightest smile, and an open-handed gesture towards her outfit. "And no one would think otherwise, given how well you dress the part." His smile broadened, before he gave her and Ademia a small wave of dismissal as he turned to his next guest, Count Vorkalloner, who was second only to Count Vorhalas in the unbending conservative category, and who currently looked like he was choking on something vile. Donna felt quite satisfied.

When they were out of earshot, Ademia commented, "I had no no idea how intense the Emperor would be."

"Very, yes."

"And ... perceptive. He commented on your dress." 

"Exactly my hope. My seamstress down in the District worked for days to make this outfit the best approximation of a Vorrutyer house uniform as she could." Donna recalled the woman's raised eyebrows, and then her fervent support. What had she said? _"Milady, you would have made the best Count Vorrutyer, but for your sex."_ Although Donna heard these comments often, especially from the District's women, it never hurt to hear them again.

With her eyes lowered, Ademia made a lovely gesture of encircling herself and Donna. "I don't think he missed anything." 

"Of course not. But he's a man whose favorite sentence, I am told, is _let's see what happens._ There's a more adventuresome spirit in there than anyone would guess. He's probably rather tickled by us."

Later, when they'd returned to Ademia's cozy apartment, had a chance to shed their dresses -- very easy now that they didn't have to put them back on -- and lay togther in Ademia's large and comfortable bed, Donna finally felt relaxed. Standing in for her brother at various High Vor social events was inevitably entertaining to her, but also frustrating, as she rarely felt that anyone valued her much more important role in managing the District. Tonight, there had been the Emperor -- she was still astonished at how very public he had been with his approval -- but that was really about it, for the High Vor. The others, the ones who came to her to make deals and political alliances, only did so because they had no choice. She sighed in frustration.

"Worrying about the inheritance mess again?" Ademia asked her.

"Of course. How can I not? If something unimaginably radical doesn't happen -- and sooner rather than later -- I'll lose everything I've done for the District to that cursed cousin of mine. All because I don't possess the correct genitalia! And Richars has already stated his desire to lock me up in an attic somewhere, as soon as he becomes Count and has the power to do so."

"Would he actually do that?"

"It would not be ... unprecedented for him to try." Donna wrapped her arms around Ademia in a blatantly possessive gesture. "Though he'd have a tough time, against my lawyer."  
Ademia quirked an eyebrow at her. "You know, this would be a lot easier if you were a man. Richars wouldn't even be in the running, and it would all be yours." 

Donna laughed. "Well, I certainly haven't been much of a success as a Barrayaran woman." She let herself imagine, briefly, what she could do with the District if it were hers. It only made her angry. "Feh! Barrayar!" She meant it as a swear word, just as she'd heard Vicereine-Countess Cordelia Vorkosigan use it. Now there was a woman who saw through all this madness ... 

In the morning, Donna would return home, to continue her work, hoping against hope that her brother would rouse himself from his funk for long enough to find a solution to the inheritance question -- a solution that would keep her at the center of the District's affairs. With a sigh of resignation, she turned to Ademia in the bed, and soon forgot anything but the feel of Ademia's soft, yielding flesh against her own.

\---------------------------------------------------------

For the next few weeks, Donna busied herself in catching up on District business, and visiting her brother in their shared house whenever she could. But the best way to get herself thrown out of his rooms was to say anything about the inheritance; he'd summon an apologetic Armsman to remove her. She was always forgiven by the next visit, but it upset Pierre enough that she'd gradually taken to mentioning the problem as little as she could stand to. 

This left Donna to fume quietly on her own. Every day Pierre lived gave her more time to look for a solution, or at least to make the District stronger, so it might withstand Richars' greediness and blockheaded conservatism if -- when -- he became Count. She called Ademia almost every night, and they always chatted warmly, but it was clear that Ademia didn't want to discuss this obsession of Donna's too often, either. But was it an obsession for a Vor to want his -- her -- District to prosper? 

She was unsettled enough to be sleeping very badly; she didn't like to use sleep timers, because she never felt quite conscious the next day, and it was better to be tired yet sure she was in full possession of her senses. One night, she woke up when the house was dark and quiet, and went to sit in the bay window in her bedroom. In the moonlight, the window gave a particularly fine view out towards her favorite parts of the District. Her District. 

And then Ademia's words echoed in her mind. _"You know, this would be a lot easier if you were a man."_ This was followed by what her seamstress has said to her, when she was making up the female Vorrutyer House uniform. _"Milady, you would have made the best Count Vorrutyer, but for your sex."_ And the many, many variations she had heard, from everyone from Pierre's Armsmen to the butcher to the District's financial officer to the woman who owned the vegetable shop and the simple girl who took care of the chickens.

 _A man._ To protect the District, she needed to become a man. 

The physical change could be had with a trip to Beta Colony; Donna knew a few Barrayarans had done it, though none of them had returned to Barrayar. As for the rest of it... Donna really had no idea; her general failure as a Barrayaran woman gave her no confidence that she could do any better as a Barrayaran man. Politically, she'd have to convince a majority of the Council of Counts that she actually was a genuine man, and her cousin Richars would do everything he could to stop that. It would be a huge gamble; if she failed in her bid for the Countship, there was no doubt that Richars would "arrange something" that would lead to her death; Donna was sure that Richars had been behind Pierre's last fiancee's "accident," and he'd gotten away with it. But if she pulled it off ... it would be the sweetest possible revenge on Richars for all the terrible things he'd done to her and Pierre, from when Richars had tried to rape her when she was only twelve, to his interference in all three of Pierre's attempts to get married and produce an heir. 

She needed to talk with Ademia. _In person. Now._ Using her house comlink, she called for the Armsman on night duty, who turned out to be the young but quite talented Joris. She asked for an aircar to be readied as quickly as possible, and two Armsmen to accompany her. Joris volunteered immediately, and said he'd rouse Szabo, one of the senior men who had been at Donna's side for almost every difficult task she'd needed to do in the District.

When they arrived in Vorbarr Sultana a few hours later, Donna took Szabo aside in front of Ademia's apartment building. "I am going to be discussing some very personal matters with Madame Castor. Very personal, but with serious implications for the District. I can't tell you much about it now, but I want you in on the plan from the start, and I just wanted to let you know ahead of time that you may find it all a bit shocking. And I need your word that you will not tell anyone."

"Even your brother?" Szabo asked pensively.

"I have thought about that. He's not likely to ask, with the state he's in these days. But even he must be kept in the dark."

"I can give you my personal word, milady. But if he asked me directly, I'd still be oath-bound to tell him."

"I am willing to risk that."

Donna activated the built-in communications link to Ademia's apartment. It chimed and chimed, but eventually Donna was able to announce herself. Ademia's very sleepy voice came on the line. "Donna? It's barely six! And I thought you were staying in the District for another week..."

"I need in. It's urgent." The outer door unlocked.

When they got up to the apartment, Ademia was stumbling around her kitchen in a bathrobe, looking adorable even as she went searching for coffee. Szabo did his best to fade into the wallpaper, but Ademia seemed especially flustered having him there. Eventually, having handed off steaming mugs to both Donna and Szabo, she settled on a chair. 

Donna was having fantasies of having Szabo do his guarding outside as he'd usually done before, getting Ademia out of her robe, and proceeding in all kinds of deliciousness. And then it hit her. _I'm going to have to give her up, if I go through with this._

With great effort, Donna put this distraction aside. There was no way to go but right to the point. Her voice shook. "Ademia, I think you were right. I want the Countship more than anything, and to get it, I have to become a man." Szabo's jaw dropped.

All the color drained out of Ademia's face. "But I wasn't serious ..." Donna could tell she was not the only one who'd been hit by grief. "You mean... go to Beta and ...?" 

"Yes. I have to, I can't help it, I'm so very very sorry..." Unexpected tears were starting to leak out of Donna's eyes, and she paused to dab at them with a tissue. "And I am going to need a lawyer. The best I can afford."

"I'm sure you can find someone... else," Ademia spat out.

"No. I want you, I know you're the best for this, and who else could I trust?" Donna said, as steadily as she could manage. 

Ademia gave her a heartbreaking, shocky stare. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, and lowered her head, so all Donna could see was the blond curls bobbing slightly as she wept. Donna felt terrible for not having even considered the implications for her lover.

Eventually, the weeping stopped, and Ademia raised her face to Donna. As Donna stared at the red eyes and blotchy face, Ademia said one word: "Why?"

"I am -- as much as any of them -- Vor. I serve. I don't question it; even when it seems like I'm putting the rest of them down, it's there. I failed at a Vor woman's duty. As a girl, I was told to be modest, prudent, and chaste -- and I failed. My father married me off to the highest bidder -- a Count! -- to make more little Vor lords, and I failed. I tried to make friends with the High Vor ladies, go to their teas, get drawn into their gossip, and instead I got too friendly with their husbands, so I failed. I pulled myself into the mold of what everyone expected of slightly damaged Vor goods, married again -- twice -- and I failed utterly. The kind of service I can do, everything I'm best at --- managing the District --- it's worth nothing if I'm not male."

"You know I'll have to leave you."

"I know. Please, darling... this it wrecking me, you know it."

"And not just because I'll be your lawyer, it's not just a matter of professional ethics that could be put aside later. It would be forever this time. Because I don't ever want to be with a man, any man. Even ... some version of you."

"I could ... I could switch back, if my case failed." Well, if Richars somehow spared her...

"No. I wouldn't come back to you. It could never be the same, knowing you'd chosen that before me."

Donna sighed. "I can't see any other way, but ..." She noticed that Szabo was recovering, his shock replaced by intrigue. She hadn't thought before that the Armsman might be one of her greatest allies.

After a moment, Ademia softened a bit, and looked thoughtful. "I could start some research for you on the legalities, so you'd know what you'd be facing if you challenged Richars." Donna recognized this as Ademia transforming into Madame Castor, the lawyer, the sharp mind so worth paying for. "And you need to talk to the clinics on Beta."

"I'm not sure I should do that myself. I'll need an agent ... but not you, I don't want to put you through that part of it." Donna pondered this for a moment. "Byerly! I'll ask my cousin Byerly. He hates Richars as much as I do, and no one pays him any mind; they think he's even crazier than I am. He plays the part well, but he's clever. You'll need to work with him pretty closely, but I think you'll like him..."

Ademia stood up and took Donna's hands, and kissed her on the cheek. "You should go." Donna understood that simple sentence. It meant Ademia was pulling back, protecting herself. God, but the woman had to be tough. "If you change your mind, I'll still be here."

\------------------------------------------------------------

Donna spent the next several weeks getting used to her plan, and preparing for it. Pierre's health had taken a turn for the worse, and he wouldn't allow her or anyone else to call in a doctor. This caused her sense of urgency to grow. Everything had to be in place so when he died, she could make one call to Ademia, stop Richars from automatically getting the Countship, and get to Beta Colony before anyone thought to start asking questions.

Her cousin Byerly was, in fact, proving to be very helpful. He had insinuated himself into Richars' social circle, for reasons Donna couldn't guess, and provided regular reports to her about Richars' schemes. By didn't like Richars any more than she did -- having had to fend off unwanted sexual advances from Richars as a teenager, much as Donna had -- but he used his ties on her behalf.

As Donna had predicted, Byerly and Ademia worked well together, and quickly became friends. He served as a courier between the two women; Ademia had let Donna know in no uncertain terms that personal visits were not welcome. As a Vor -- even one considered to be quite distasteful by his peers -- By also had access to certain archives and documents that Ademia did not; a couple of times, Ademia had sent him off to dig up a past Emperor's personal communications regarding a legal case, rather than just relying on official judicial records. 

Byerly showed up one evening after dinner, with a stack of packages for Donna. He gave her his customary By-bow, which made her smile as it always did, and then kissed her cheek. 

When they'd settled in one of the small sitting rooms, By commented, "Your lawyer is quite acute. Devastatingly so, in fact. And devastatingly attractive, enough that I was tempted to propose to her..."

"By! You know she'd never have you." 

"I figured it out eventually. When you took her to that party at the Imperial Residence, I thought you were just playing one of your games with the High Vor sensibilities. I had no idea you and she were..."

"Yes, we were. You know that giving her up is my biggest regret about all this..." Donna was momentarily distracted by memories of Ademia, in her blue velvet dress -- and out of it.

"I didn't understand why, until I actually met the woman. But I suppose that this, um, new-found preference of yours could serve you well, once you make the transition. You'll be needing a Countess, after all..." He was leering at her.

"Oh. I hadn't thought about that ... Even if I became Count, without an heir, Richars or one of his idiot sons would inherit the District after all, eventually. But what woman would want a freak, a man who used to be a woman?"

By's leer broadened into a smile, as if he found her hopelessly ignorant. "Dear, dear. You are forgetting something. A man who used to be a woman would have a leg up on all the rest of us, in the bedroom. There has to be a suitable girl who knows enough that she'd see the advantage in that..."

"Hah. Like whom?"

"Oh, I was thinking someone like one of the Koudelka girls. Maybe Olivia... she's always giving you these little glances, at parties."

"She is?" Donna wondered how she hadn't noticed.

"Oh yes. She might have just the right sort of imagination, you know..." By was leering at her again. "And I certainly was watching her, at the Emperor's party, the one where you had Ademia along. The poor girl looked positively jealous. She could barely keep her eyes off you two."

"Um, that's, um ..." Olivia was gorgeous, and brilliant, and bore a passing resemblance to Ademia as well. Donna decided she'd better change the subject before she got too distracted, and especially before By started giving her sexual advice -- he wouldn't refrain, since he ignored Vor standards for propriety between men and women, she knew from previous experience. "So what do you have for me?" By opened the top package and handed it to Donna.

It was a stack of flimsies. "More to read? I've been immersed in enough vid-reproductions of Old Earth tomes about 'men trapped in women's bodies' to want to hurl them all off the balcony."

"I thought you might find it useful to read other's experiences ... all those fascinating personal details," 

By sounded like he'd be fascinated, but Donna was annoyed now. "But don't you see, By? There's no man trapped in here," she gestured at herself, "desperate to get out. There's just Barrayar, trapped in its conceits, and me trapped in it. I want to stay who I am, and I just need to change a few external details for that to happen."

"Please, there's no reason to be sharp. I'll cease and desist on the autobiographies. But here's something you might find less distasteful." From the second package, he pulled out a thick document -- a contract, Donna realized almost immediately.

 _Contract for Sex-Reassignment Procedure, Betan Office of Gender Relations._ The name of a clinic -- one of the most reputable, Donna realized -- was emblazoned across the front.

"I just made this from the electronic version they sent me. The clinics all use the same contract; it's standardized by Betan law." 

"How very bureaucratic of them." Donna started paging through the contract, and got the general impression that the Betan Office of Gender Relations was run by obsessive-compulsive perfectionists. The legal language quickly convinced her that she needed Ademia to pick through its details.

"This is amazing, By. You've obviously worked some miracles to make this all happen so quickly. But ... I can't pay you. You know that getting this done will cost about three quarters of what's left of my dowries. Ademia's agreed to work on contingency -- I only have to pay her if I get the Countship and can draw on District funds. And if I don't, I won't have enough money to get it reversed, so this is a one-way trip..."

"You can pay me by keeping Richars from the Countship." By was deathly serious, all of his prankster persona gone now.

Donna had seen this expression on him before, a few times, most importantly when Richars had tried to rape her when she was just twelve. She'd experienced such bleakness, going through the members of her household from the Count her father to her ladies' maid, and not being believed by anyone. But Byerly -- he had believed her. When she'd told him, he'd reddened with the shame of his own experiences at Richars' hands. He had been so awkward as he'd tried to comfort her, tried to tell her that as long as one person believed her, she had a little bit of control.

At fifteen, Byerly had already been strange, even by Vorrutyer family standards, and the target of no little ire from the older generation for having no interest whatsoever in competing to be admitted to the Imperial Service Academy. _I don't want to learn to kill people,_ he'd said when she'd asked him about it. He'd shown her what he did want -- poetry he'd written, drawings, things he'd learned to hide away from the disapproving eyes of his elders. To her, alienated and disbelieved, he'd seemed a natural ally and hero, and ever since, she'd had a little crush on him. He might have made a better husband for her than any of the three men she'd married, but even on Barrayar, where pairings between relatives were common in her social class, first cousins were just a little too closely related. 

Now he asked her, "What will you do if you fail?"

"Run as far and as fast as I can away from Richars. The man won't have a sense of humor about this, and getting the Countship wouldn't be enough for him to drop it. I think I might have to apply for political asylum outside the empire, and I'll have just enough money to get to, say, Escobar." 

"I'd miss you, you know." He had the famous Vorrutyer eyes -- dark and perceptive -- and Donna knew, seeing their concern, that he carried the weight of feelings for her, too.

"I know. I'd miss you too. And Ademia, though I'm going to miss her regardless. I'd even miss the whole Vor circus -- all of those people, even the ones who think I'm crazy."

"I think you'll land on your feet, however your suit goes." By's confidence buoyed Donna, and brightened her mood again.

The last package was a bit more nerve-wracking. It contained tools and a shipping container for a tissue sample, along with instructions for obtaining it.  
"You need a bit," By made a face at Donna, "of Pierre, to grow your new organs."

"A bit? Not a bit from...."

"No!" By had reflexively crossed his hands over his crotch, and Donna used a finger to guide his gaze down to see what he was doing, at which point he spread his fingers into an even more protective gesture. Donna started to giggle. By snickered, and then snorted, and before Donna could do anything, the two of them were consumed by laughter, so much so that By slipped right out of his chair onto the floor and grabbed Donna's knees as tears of glee streamed down his face. Each time their laughter died down, one of them would splutter, and that would get the other one started again. They only stopped when they were both so out of breath they were gasping.

By returned to his chair and sprawled out, chest heaving. When he finally had enough air to force out a sentence, he said, "No, Donna, any bit of Pierre will work, but I'd avoid anything near his poor demented brain."

"Right you are, about that. Although I'm sure that however I end up, I'll still have my own portion of Vorrutyer dementedness... though, come to think of it, if the Betans can use their genetic manipulations to remove our tendency towards heart problems, they might be able to get rid of our mental problems, too. Imagine, a Vorrutyer who wouldn't be considered half-mad by the rest of the Vor."

"The mind boggles."

"Indeed it does."

\-----------------------------------------------------

 

Pierre's death came within weeks, during the night. Armsman Szabo woke Donna from a luscious dream -- about Olivia Koudelka, who had been making regular appearances in her fantasies ever since By had mentioned her. By the Armsman's apologetic demeanor, Donna knew before he spoke his first word. She asked for a few minutes to get herself dressed, but when Szabo closed the door, she burst into sobs. She would have to get off-planet immediately, before her brother's funeral -- before his death was even announced publicly. It was only later that she realized there was some sadness for the impending loss of her own female persona mixed in with the understandable grief at the loss of her brother. Since she'd signed the surgery contract and put its safe delivery to Beta into By's hands, she had mostly been focusing on the advantages that would come with being male, which went well beyond a chance at the Countship. Armsman Szabo, among others, had been filling her in, and were already coaching her towards a more masculine demeanor. The view from the top of the Barrayaran food chain would be a welcome change, she thought... and what was she losing, anyway? _Ademia._

As part of the process of blocking Richars' automatic inheritance of the Countship, a meeting was required between Donna and a judge -- with her lawyer in attendance. All through the past weeks of preparation, while Donna grew more excited about her potential role once she returned from Beta, she was sometimes nearly overwhelmed with grief for the woman she would leave behind. 

Ademia met her in the morning at the judge's office. She was, as Donna expected, pulled back into a thoroughly professional mode, although Donna detected the slightest sadness in her demeanor. Seeing her was the most difficult part of the meeting, as Donna had expected it would be, even with weeks of separation and the certainty of what Donna had chosen. The judge accepted her claim that there was a possible heir to the Vorrutyer Countship other than Richars with no argument, and granted a stay on the inheritance. It gave Donna just enough time to have her surgery and get back to Barrayar for the next meeting of the Council of Counts.

Afterwards, Ademia accepted a hug but politely refused a ride back to her apartment. Donna stood on the sidewalk and watched her past slip away as Ademia headed off. She sighed as she climbed back into the groundcar and motioned Szabo to go on.

The route Donna and her entourage took to the shuttleport headed through the center of Vorbarr Sultana, where traffic slowed to a crawl as usual. Near the University, Donna noticed a tall, familiar-looking blonde. At Donna's signal, Szabo pulled the groundcar over. Donna called out, and when the young woman turned to her, it was Olivia Koudelka. _How very convenient._

Olivia took in the Armsmen, and the luggage. "Where are you going? You look like you're ready for a long trip." She was blushing slightly ... so maybe Byerly had been correct about her inclinations. Donna could certainly see this going in an interesting direction, and wondered, half-seriously, how Olivia would feel about being a Countess.

"I am, but I can't tell you where -- just yet. You might have reason to want to know more when I get back, though." There. The seed was planted, and when Donna returned, she'd have one step toward her future already in place. "We'll see what happens," she remarked.

"You sound just like Emperor Gregor when you say that. Now you've got me so curious that I'll just have to find out, after you return." Olivia's brilliant smile and the admiration in her deep blue eyes confirmed Donna's guess that she was being flirted with. 

"Good. Now do you need a ride anywhere?"

"No, no. My class at the University is just a block or two away, but thanks."

Donna and the three Armsmen arrived at the shuttleport in good time, found a float pallet for their luggage, and went to the waiting area. Byerly, by previous arrangement, was not present. His previous visits to her could be explained away easily enough as a relative providing assistance during Count Pierre's decline, but he had rightly observed that if anyone saw him at her departure, they would assume he knew where she was going, and why. For all that people thought Byerly Vorrutyer was an impoverished town clown, he was clever enough about security issues that it was obvious to Donna that someone was paying him a not-unreasonable salary for his tidbits of Vorish gossip. She had a good guess as to the identity of the someone, but she didn't press the issue with Byerly. If she were to confirm her suspicions, it might endanger that salary... and as Count Vorrutyer, she'd have enough financial juggling to do without having to support her shiftless relative, even though she owed him so much for his assistance. 

Once again, she realized that she was thinking as if she were already the Count. Well, perhaps she would be. Whatever happened, there would be no going back. She'd been half-expecting that her mind would change, but her reaction to seeing Ademia, and then so quickly Olivia Koudelka, told her that she was right to look forward. It really was preposterous to think she could get the Countship this way -- but what other way was there? 

When the shuttle boarding was announced, Lady Donna Vorrutyer was on her way.


End file.
